Focus
by Espera
Summary: Jim is suffering. He can barely stand being around Pam and not be allowed to touch her-to love her. He seeks solace and a distraction from a helping hand. Explicit Jim/Ryan. Unrequited Jim/Pam. WARNING: much angst. Read at your own risk.


Title: Focus  
Fandom: The Office  
Author: Espera  
Pairing: Jim/Ryan. Unrequited Jim/Pam  
Rating: NC-17  
Beta: Uhh, a couple of my friends. Heh.  
Warnings: ANGST. And explicit male/male relationships. Read if you still want to.  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Got it?  
Spoilers: None, I don't think. Can you spoil The Office..?  
Author's Notes: I wrote this in 26 minutes at 1 in the morning. If there are any major errors, please tell me. Also, sorry I have been like, inactive since I started this thing! ..For those that follow me, that is. Yeah.  
Concrit is welcomed and encouraged!  
Enjoy!  
Or don't. =]

Jim glances up again for the millionth time that day to look at his favorite receptionist, but instead he gets an eyeful of lovey-dovey pre-marital giggling. Flashes of anger and jealousy and grief rush through him and he sets down his coffee cup a little too hard. A little bit of the too-hot coffee splashes out onto his hand. His skin is throbbing in pain, but all he does is stare down at it. He doesn't stop the pain because he doesn't think he should. Thinks he deserves it. He can't keep pining after an almost married woman after all. He lies in bed at night, staring at his ceiling in the dark thinking about her and about himself and how much it hurts to laugh and with her and pull pranks with her and not be able to kiss her. But she is happy with..Roy. So happy. So he lets the liquid burn his hand. Maybe the physical pain can distract him from the emotional pain. After a while, the coffee begins to cool and he can see how red his skin is. It wasn't enough. It hurt like a bitch but all he can think about is Pam.

"Aren't you going to get that?" Dwight says glancing up from his desk to stare concernedly at Jim's hand. Well, as concerned as Dwight can be. Which isn't very. He looks back at his computer after a moment.

"No. I don't need to." Jim says easily.

Dwight doesn't look up this time. "And why is that?" he says absently, typing.

"Cyborgs can't feel pain." Jim says almost dismissivly.

"Excuse me?" Dwight looks up this time. Jim almost smiles, but he supresses it.

"I had this arm replaced with a cyborg arm a couple weeks ago. I've been trying to keep it on the down-low, with the anti-cyborg laws and such. You know." he waves the "cyborg hand" dismissively.

Dwight follows the movement of his arm with his eyes, suspicious. But he is oh so gullible. "Yes." he says. He means for it to come out skeptical, but it doesn't, and Jim knows he's hooked.

"Don't tell anyone about it, okay?" Jim says.

"Of course, Jim," Dwight says, still watching his arm, and Jim already is plotting.

"Wait, how-" and Dwight is cut off as Michael explodes out of his office, calling another meeting in the conference room. Apparently he got an email saying he had won a million dollars. This should be fun. Dwight forgets his question, and he heads eagerly to the conference room, done with Jim. Jim smiles. Everyone is trying their hardest to take their time to get to this "meeting" so he knows he wont be the last person, so if he stalls he won't be late. He has time to shoot Pam a quick email. Now that Roy is gone.

"Pam,

If Dwight asks, I have a cyborg arm.

Jim"

He smiles again. But it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

The day is over and he's grabbing his things to go. Pam, on her way out the door, stops and heads back over to Jim's desk. She smiles at him, but her smile is familiar to Jim, and it doesn't quite reach her eyes. A flicker of hope passes through him and immediately he feels guilty. He stops himself from pretending Pam isn't there and instead says "Hey."

"Hey," Pam says back. "So I got-" she stops, looking around and ducking her head cutely, and repeats quieter "So i got your email. Which arm?"

And Jim knows exactly what she is talking about. "The right one," he says with a smirk. "I've got something planned, don't worry. I'll fill you in tomorrow," and he rises to leave. He stands a few inches above Pam and it's all he can do to not pull her into his embrace right there when she says with a crooked grin "I have an idea too."

He smiles at her instead, hoping it looks happy. "Good. Well, shall we continue this tomorrow?" referring to the cyborg arm prank, but secretly meaning their relationship. This torture of a friendship. He just wants to hear Pam say yes.

"Yeah. Definitely, yeah," and she's looking at him with a look that doesn't match her words and suddenly she's hugging him awkwardly and he puts an arm around her without even thinking about it. Hope explodes in his chest.

Before he can blink, she pulls away. "Bye Jim," she says over her shoulder as she walks hurridly away. Jim can't see her face. "Bye." he says as she disappears through the door and down the stairs.

He is left standing there, wallowing in his own devastation, confusion, and guilt. What was that? His observations on her behavior are greatly biased because he is so hopelessly in love with her that he tries desperately to read into everything to see if she could possibly have feelings for him. But he knows better. He instead reasons that she is just being a good friend.

It's not like she can just drop stupid Roy and their stupid wedding plans and just kiss him until his heart bled from happiness. No. That will never happen. Can never happen.

Ryan watches the whole ordeal from his desk in the corner. He feels the blood start to run faster through his veins. He knows what this means. He stacks some last stray papers and waits and sure enough, Jim turns toward him. Hurt and pain and a little bit of guilt is written all over his face and Ryan feels himself getting hard. Sometimes he wonders if he should feel weird about what he does, but he doesn't. He stands up from his chair and walks over to where Jim is standing. He slides a hand down his arm in a pseudo-comforting gesture, and Jim grabs him by his starched collar and pulls him after him, shoving him into the men's restroom.

Jim is especially rough today. He slams Ryan hard against the door, immediatly pressing his lips to Ryans, and pins him against the door with his own body. One of Ryan's hands tangles in his hair, and the other starts stroking down his side. Jim grabs that arm and holds it hard against the wall. Not today. He's not going to let Ryan take today. Maybe, if he focuses all of his attention on Ryan, Ryan Ryan Ryan, then he will forget about Pam.

Pam.

He breaks the kiss and visibly shakes the thought out of his head. He latches his lips on to Ryan's neck, biting harder than he means to. Ryan gasps. Of course he likes this, Jim thinks. He keeps it up then, biting and sucking and abusing Ryan's neck. He begins to rut against him and he feels Ryan struggle to free his arm, to pull his body closer. He doesn't let go.

Focus.

He focuses. This is Ryan. Ryan wants this. Ryan wants him. He knows that isn't really true. Jim doesn't really know why he does this. It was Ryan that first came up to him, the first day he noticed. He not-so-subtly asked if he could help by grabbing his crotch. Jim had been too distraught to think clearly and they ended up coming in each others' hands in the bathroom.

Ryan is a user. But this is ok because-no, it's not okay. But it makes Jim forget for a few blissful moments about Pam, so he lets himself be used.

He finally releases his grip on Ryan's shirt, the fabric wrinkled in a way he knew Ryan would hate. He unbuttons Ryan's immaculately pressed slacks with his free hand and delves inside. He grabs Ryan's dick, pulling it out of his boxer-briefs, to stand in the open air. This is Ryan, Ryan's dick, and Ryan likes this. He can feel the little gasps and moans vibrate against his mouth, he bites them through Ryan's neck before they pass through his lips. He made him make those sounds. He made Ryan feel this way. He has to work on making Ryan feel better.

Ryan.

He begins to stroke in earnest, pumping Ryan's cock hard in his fist. He doesn't let up, and he doesn't let Ryan's arm go and he doesn't stop gnawing on his neck and within minutes Ryan comes in his hand, splattering come down his fingers and getting a little on both their shirts. While Ryan's recovering, he lets his own hand reach inside his slacks to stroke his own cock. It slides easy, already slick with Ryan's come. Ryan. He made Ryan come. He pulls at his dick a few more times, feeling Ryan against him, breathing Ryan, tasting Ryan, and he comes as well. He is immediately overcome with regret and sorrow and guilt. He feels dirty.

"Go." he says and it's a command he steps back, releasing Ryan's arm and Ryan straightens himself up. He knows Ryan is looking him in the face, but Jim can't bring himself to raise his eyes. "Go." he says again, in a tragic monotone.

Ryan gives him a lingerling look, shrugs, and does indeed leave. Jim is left alone, again, with his own thoughts.

Pam.

It didn't work. He sinks to his knees and sobs.


End file.
